


Back To That Night

by somethingseokmin



Category: Looking for Alaska - John Green
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:29:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingseokmin/pseuds/somethingseokmin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remeber the night when the colonel crawled shivering into Pugde's bed and asked to hold his hand? Here's what would have happened.. if Pudge had stayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back To That Night

**Author's Note:**

> I read a fic that was really unrealistic and decided to write my own interpretation of what might have happened if Pudge had stayed in bed with the Colonel that night (MY OWN INTERPRITATION lol). Also, I used actual dialogue and actions from the book to start this chapter in order for you to know what was going on. I actually wrote this fic for my friend and only recently decided to post it. Tell me what you think! enjoyy

“Are you cold?” I asked.

He nodded, slipping off his sneakers, and climbing into my bed on the bottom bunk, pulling up the covers. His teeth chattered like Morse code.

“Jesus, are you alright?”

“Better now. Warmer,” He said. A small, ghost white hand appeared from beneath the comforter, “Hold my hand will ya?”

“Alright but that’s it. No kissing.” The quilt shook with his laughter. “Where have you been?”

“I walked to Montevallo.”

“Forty miles?!” I gaped.

“Forty-two.” He corrected me, “Well, forty-two there. Forty-two back. Eighty two miles. No.. Eighty four.” he muttered, his words unclear and slipping, “In forty- five hours.”

“What the hell’s in Montevallo?”

He looked up at me then, his eyes dark and tired, “Not much. I just walked till I got too cold, then turned back.”

“You didn’t sleep?”

“No..” He gripped my hand tighter, turning on his side to face me, “The dreams are terrible.” His eyes shut tightly in discomfort, “In my dreams she doesn't even look like herself anymore.” His expression stayed pained, but he went on, “I was so tired of her getting upset for no reason..” {I skipped the part where he admitted to letting her go.}

The Colonel’s hand was so little and I grabbed it tight, his cold seeping into me and my warmth into him.

“I memorized the populations..” He mumbled incoherently, but was out before I could even ask.

I considered leaving him as his hand fell limp in my own. What reason did I have to stay? I looked down at him, his breathing slow and even, his dark hair messily matted against his forehead, cheeks flushed, lips drowsily parting with each intake of breath, and tried not to think too hard.

It was in that moment that I realized he was right. All along I’d been in love with the person I wanted Alaska to be. She hadn’t been that person and she never would be.

His words hit me hard as I lay beside him, battling my own exhaustion. I still loved Alaska, as I always would, just in a different light. Things weren’t the way they’d been before.

I forced myself into loving the person she was only **HALF** the time.

The Colonel though.. I gripped his hand, confident that he wouldn't wake.. he was here **now**. And I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Ever.

Then I think back to Sara, still unable to sleep.

His words seem to haunt me.

_”I guess I just stay with her because she stays with me. And that’s not an easy thing to do. I’m a bad boyfriend. She’s a bad girlfriend. We deserve each other.”_

I remembered the distant, empty look in his eyes. The sadness. I’d been able to see through him then and I didn’t need to see through him now, lying vulnerable beside me, his hand heavy in my own.

He deserved better.

He deserved so much better.

I don’t know what I was thinking, but it was hard to think in that moment with him so close, our noses only inches apart.

So I kissed him.

It was the slightest press of my lips against his. They were chapped from the cold but undeniably soft.

Oh no.. I pull away, expecting him to draw back, expecting his eyes to flutter open, expect they don't, and he lies still beside me. He hadn’t as much as flinched.

I bite down on my lower lip, the feel of his hand warming up in my own, and try to regret it.. _except I don’t,_ and I can’t deny the sudden realization that I wouldn't mind doing it again.


End file.
